oh right i guess i should let you go now
isn’t it unfair how well your body fits in my hands
i like the way you look huddled around the bonfire with all my friends
i like how you look laughing by the silver water, i like sleeping on your shoulder while you’re talking on the phone in the back of cait’s car
on long rides when your mom is having difficulty explaining where
she parked your car

hey listen have you heard there’s this chemical dmt that your brain releases
in REM sleep and also just before you die
josh smoked it once in the back of a stranger’s van at a music festival (where all worthwhile things happen)
said it makes faces look like shattering glass
makes cars humming along the highway look like they’re melting
said it’s like you’re viewing the whole world through a windshield blurry
and drooping with torrential rain

he said he’s afraid heaven will be less now that he’s experienced something
so incredible
but we know that’s ridiculous i mean i’ve held your body close to my body
after not seeing your face in person in two weeks and i did not once fear
death would hurt any less

josh drove me home from the bus station at washington square, told of how
this weekend he took shrooms with his college buddies and broke into
a yacht club and watched the boston skyline from the dock
feet in black water, vague ripple, the planes taking off in the distance like
roaring metal dragons flying impressively overhead, all the world’s beauty
on a silver spinning disk just for them

i said i got to touch your hand when no one was looking, hug you by your car
he laughed, ‘sounds like one hell of a trip’ 

i might start moving slower
i might start forgiving myself
for how sometimes on certain nights i panic
i breathe very carefully
thinking of all the things i’ve gotten to do that other people havent gotten to do
what the hell makes me so special and i’m afraid
the only thing that never wears off is the guilt 

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